


Spells are not the solution to dying plants

by Ferairia123



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental demonification, Aziraphale book collecting, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Hell Botanist, Demon Summoning, Done in one sitting, Injured Newton Pulsifer, Mentions of Demonic Botany Scene, Mentions of the Spanish Inquisition, Post Not Apocalyse, Spells Gone Wrong, Spells from the internet, Sword Wielding Aziraphale (Good Omens), Tentacle plant demon, Vague nudity, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 08:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20094475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferairia123/pseuds/Ferairia123
Summary: Crowley was summoned. He hasn't been summoned by a mortal in a very, very long time. The last time that happened, it was before the Spanish Inquisition.Once he was there, it was a familiar yet odd circumstance.





	Spells are not the solution to dying plants

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do this. I really had to this. I've been sick because of the haze and my brain just wanted this out. Hopefully, I can rest easier with this out. Hahahahaha

It was one of those times where Aziraphale and Crowley spent almost half a day at the Ritz. They were enjoying good food and good wine but more importantly, if there was anyone on to them despite what had happened with the body switch thing.

"I still get an angel or two. It's a bit disconcerting even if they only looked...observed." Aziraphale complained with an impatient flail of his free hand as the words escapes him.

"Really? Never tried to say hi or something?" Crowley said as he poured more wine. Barely able to keep himself from sloshing.

"They would go away as soon as they noticed that I noticed." He told him sulkily. "I mean, I noticed them skulking around, anyway." He explained. "Wait, does that makes sense?"

Crowley shook his head at the topic, completely missing Aziraphale's question at the end. "Don't know why they even bothered." He groaned. "It's not as if they don't have others to pick up the slack." He said before a hiccup interrupted his next tirade. "Ok, I think I had too much."

Aziraphale looked at the other man with a nod with more unsteady movement than usual. "Same here."

At that, both of them sobered up.

"So-" Crowley suddenly stopped and jolted.

Aziraphale caught the strange movement as he tried to rid the wine's aftertaste. It was somewhat tart. "I think the alcohol level was slightly higher this time around." He commented sympathetically. "Perhaps, not the right year."

Crowley didn't respond. Instead, a look of realization crossed his face, his eyebrows high as he did.

Before either Aziraphale could say another word or the demon reacted, he was gone.

"Oh dear." Aziraphale managed to utter as the scene sets in.

-00-

Crowley hasn't been summoned in a long while. A really, really long while. That's partly why the Spanish Inquisition was started in the first place. To stop humans from summoning demons willy-nilly.

Back in the 1400s, once a human summons you and more or less signs up their soul for Satan, you'll be stuck with them until whatever they sign up their soul for is fulfilled. Something a demon like Hastur is more familiar with. It takes up years, even decades if they gotten the smart ones. So called 'craftsmanship'.

Being summoned and going there are two very different things with different effects. He honestly hated the pulling sensation before arriving at wherever he was summoned to. It was like being fished but it's by his core. But being summoned before had been interesting, hopefully it wasn't Satanists though...Or know-it-all occultists. Or that guy that went under the name theatre name of Faust.

Of course, the world can be a quirky thing indeed. Upon reaching there, he didn't expect the mutated screech of a hell plant (something both odd and familiar) and the cries of Anathema, desperately holding a barely conscious and seriously injured Newt.

"Crowley!" She screamed through her tears as something slimy toppled him over and there were tentacles everywhere.

"What the fuck?!" He exclaimed as he conjured a stake which rose through the floor. He held on, anchoring an arm over it as the black slime from the tentacle burnt away his clothes and spectacles, clambering over him. Recognizing it, he looked up to Anathema. "How the fuck?!" He demanded as more tentacles reached for him and the screeching continued. They were in the den or some space like that in the Jasmine Cottage.

But now, there was a demonic or hellish origin plant sprouted there. The flower, also the head of the plant, was screeching excitedly at the prey it caught.

Anathema on the other hand was frantic as she tried to stop the bleeding from all over Newt, evidently either from fighting it off or from being caught by the nasty bugger. Clearly not getting anymore response, he decided to deal with the plant himself. "Shut up!" He roared at the plant, managing to cowl it a moment before it screeched even harder.

If he could cover his ears, he would but in his current circumstance, it's either getting discorporated by digestion of a pseudo-hell plant or suffer a slight headache. Thank Whoever it is that he is a demon or else, he would be a pile of bones now. "If you don't stop it, right now, I'll feed you to the grinder and put the rest of you in the sun!" He shouted back in a demonic voice.

The plant had started to constrict his body. He cursed as he remembered about this plant. Can't blame him from being out of the infernal botany scene. This particular weed of a hell plant was actually grown as a soul catcher. Originally, it's touch is enough to hold on a straying soul and keep it until a demon or Satan himself comes for it. Something like fruit picking except lesser demons would have been eaten too. It's a bit temperamental, really. But to see one as mutated as this one and managing to survive out of hell, that was one ridiculous mishap.

He miracles a silver dagger. "Oh, you're going to regret that one, laddie!" He doesn't know if it's effective but if it isn't, then the tentacles will multiply. But as it is now, he was loosing his vision and consciousness as the tentacle over his neck was starting to constrict blood to his body's brain. Acting quick, he starts cutting, hearing it screaming. That didn't stop the plant from constricting him but he manages to save his neck (literally) before more tentacles grew from the severed ends as the rest of it puffed into smoke. He laughed at the plant's agony as he tried to drag the rest of his naked body away from the reach of the regenerated plant part. He only noticed now that some parts of his leg had gone numb from the constriction.

What he didn't expect was a flaming sword (a different one, not the one Aziraphale had) chopping off the rest of the tentacles, setting him free.

Looking at the wielder, a grim and definitely furious Aziraphale, he gave Crowley a quick scrutinizing glance before carving his way skillfully, almost gracefully to the flower, setting everything ablaze before plunging that sword into the flower itself. Aziraphale was definitely a Principality alright. It was stunning just to see him go. He definitely earned his title of Guardian of the East Gate of Eden.

He jumped back, getting distance from plant before spreading his wings wide enough to block the plant from Crowley's view. "Crowley, shield thyself!" He warned urgently.

Realizing what was going to happen, he got himself out of his starstruck stupor to have his own wings out and covered himself with it as the screeching turned into a wail and disappeared.

Afterwards, Crowley could practically hear Aziraphale panic. "Crowley, are you alright?" He asked, his wings fluttering noisily as he tucked them back in.

Crowley carefully separated his wings to give a peek. Aziraphale, peered in concern. Crowley was still on the floor, in a curl of human body and feathers.

"Are you alright, my dear boy?" He asked again, but this time, more gently.

"No more exorcising, angelic grace around?" He asked, with a pointed eyebrow.

Aziraphale couldn't help but give a tired chuckle. "No, no. It's safe now." He said as disappeared from sight to sit, catching his breath.

Tucking his wing away, he gave a light rub to get rid of the slime and grime on himself. "Oh, that's interesting." He said as he noticed the ligature marks all around him.

Aziraphale blushed at his naked self but there was a frown as well. "I'm terribly sorry I couldn't get here in time." He apologized sincerely as he looked away from Crowley. "I didn't realize what had happened."

Crowley rolled his eyes at the angel's reaction before snapping his clothes on and his injuries away.

"I could have handled it myself, you know." Crowley brushed off. "But seeing you fight with a sword reminded me of the Black Knight days." He said with non-committed shrug, bone and joints cracking as he did.

Aziraphale chuckled again. "Goodness, that has been too long." Before he shook his head. "Oh dear, Anathema, Newton." He gasped out as he got to his feet.

-00-

Once the whole hell plant scene was over and the couple miraculously made full recovery from the mutated hell plant, they sat with tea and the culprit of it all on the table.

The two were more subdued than usual due to the scare. Aziraphale did his best to comfort them. He even blessed them for a good day tomorrow.

Crowley on the other had was staring daggers at the a few crumpled pieces of paper that Anathema printed out.

Even without the two traumatized human couple, the other two supernatural entities, one infernal and the other ethereal, managed to piece out the story.

"I know it has been trying for the both of you but could you tell us what happened?" Aziraphale cooed gently.

Thank the hells below that Crowley didn't have to be there while they were crying their eyes out because of the not-hell plant poison and malevolent screeches. It wasn't the real thing but it was enough to almost kill these two and had their souls extracted. Though even Crowley admits that the venom was giving him some problems earlier but it wore off as he oozed off a bit of demonic aura to absorb it.

Anathema sighed. "It was a dying devil's ivy plant." She said, looking morose as she did. "I thought it needed some occultic help than a green thumb."

"And you got these from the internet?" Crowley asked skeptically, the call for amateur was heavily implied even if it wasn't spoken.

Anathema lets out a sound of disgust as Aziraphale gave him a disapproving look.

"For your information, my mother had the real book with her and the one I found was the exact same thing. I just needed a refresher." She said defensively, throwing a dirty look at Crowley before smirking. "It worked anyway." She finished in a mocking voice.

Crowley squinted his slit eyes at her, almost hissing as Aziraphale placed a restraining hand on him with a pleading look while Newt touched Anathema's elbow with a bit of a disapproving grimace.

"Now, that we have that sorted out, do you remember how you summoned Crowley?" Aziraphale asked next, once he was certain that the demon was not going to lunge at her.

Anathema shook her head. "All I remembered was I needed help. The summoning circle was still complete so I just... 'Help!" She explained with a wave of her hand. "Sorry...for the trouble."

"None at all, my dear." Aziraphale comforted her with a kind smile as Crowley stood up with the said paper.

"I'm confiscating these." Crowley said, waving the papers. "Next time, just call me. Or better yet, go ask the local garden shop. Summoning is ssssooo 17th century."

Anathema scowled but did nothing else as Newt stiffly nodded. "But we d-don't have your numbers." Newt timidly said.

Crowley did a shooting hand at Newt and his phone vibrated with a message at the charger port near the wall. "Now, you do."

"Oh Crowley, can't we at least finish this tea?" Aziraphale whined pitifully as the man started to leave.

Crowley gave him one raised eyebrow. At that, Aziraphale just sighed.

"Apologies, Anathema, Newt. We have a long drive back to London." He said as he stood up with an apologetic look.

"No, no. We're glad you guys came. No one could have saved us. Thank you." Newton said gratefully as he came over to shake Aziraphale's hands before turning to Crowley and instinctively balking at his snake eyes stare.

At that, Crowley extended a hand as well. Newton visibly fought his fear and shook Crowley's hand. "Thank you for saving us." He said as Anathema gave Aziraphale a hug.

-00-

With only Crowley feeling like he got hit in the face with a brick as he passed the entrance (the iron horseshoe at the entrance hasn't been removed yet), they were in the car. Of course, Crowley had to summon his car there.

It was getting dark and predictably there was a traffic jam.

"Seeing as it's getting late. Do you want to skip the Ritz and go straight home or try and coax a slice or two from the kitchen?" Crowley asked mischievously.

Predictably, Aziraphale just gave a disapproving grunt and a shake of his head. "The book shop would suffice. It may not be much but would you like some Bordeaux?" He offered.

Crowley shrugged. "No emergencies or anything so I'll take you up on that offer." He said as the traffic moved another inch, his hand rubbed an itch near his ear where the sunglasses were in contact.

Aziraphale gave him a few anxious looks since he got in the car, as if trying to get courage to what he wanted to say next. The ice breaker didn't seem to help.

Once he caught Aziraphale's eyes again, he sighed.

"What'sss wrong, angel?" He asked in a tired, sibilant tone.

Aziraphale had the gall to look surprise before he looked...sad.

Crowley patiently waited for him. He doesn't usually be patient but great schemes require timely execution.

"I thought you were going to be discorporated." Aziraphale said glumly. "I mean, I'm sure you can threaten them for another body or something with our current Arrangement but...I was almost as scared as I was when we had to plan to face our Superiors." He said warily, looking far off.

Crowley was...touched but he also find it too funny for his ethereal friend (which is probably why he is acting the way he did) was overly worried over him. He lets out a snort and reached to give the angel a supposedly reassuring grip on the shoulder.

"You worry too much, angel. You seem to forget that I was the Tempter of the Garden of Eden." He said with a truly evil smirk. "If anything, with all that sword swinging earlier, you'll be giving me a hell of time staying on my feet." He said almost gleefully before settling back in his seat with a cackle.

Aziraphale joined with a laugh as he remembered the few confused times they had squared off in battle only for one of them to stop time and get a sense of things. "Alright, alright, my boy. You have a point there, I suppose."

"I suppose?! Wha-wai I suppose?!" Crowley spluttered in disbelief and indignance. "Rather cocky aren't you?"

Aziraphale laughed harder at that. Crowley was confused for a moment before he was chuckling too. "You're such a child!" He scoffs fondly.

"You-you-" Aziraphale barely managed to breath out from his flushed face. Trying to point out one of the said battles they did fight against each other.

Unfortunately, a loud honk sobered them up and Crowley immediately got moved the several inches of free road.

Annoyed, he gave a wave at the man. "See if you like that for the next few days."

Aziraphale grimaced at that. "That was overdoing it, wasn't it?"

Crowley shrugged. "He works at the hospital, though."

Aziraphale gave a moment of thought before resettling himself in his seat. "Very well."

  
-00-

"An?" Newt called as he stood at the entrance of the den.

Both of them hasn't been there since they were rescued from it by Aziraphale.

Anathema feared the worse. Renovations costs, furniture replacement, explanations of otherworldly, biohazard liquids, exorcisms. When she reached there she felt her jaw dropped.

It was....cozy.

There was a set of tartan sofas, with a coffee table and matching pastel carpet. There was even a fireplace.

Seeing this and the stunned occultist, Newt actually smiled. "Well, I think we had enough for the day. Let's just deal with this tomorrow." He coaxed, sidling beside her.

Anathema shook herself out of the stupor. "Yeah. Let's just deal with this tomorrow."

The two retired for the night.

-00-

Anathema's mother was reading up a book one the thermohaline belt. The desalinity and melting ice caps had been a concern and she was trying to find a way to stop it.

She received a phone call. Getting her handsfree, she accepted the call.

"Device family." She spoke.

"Hello there, I'm from A. Z. Fell Bookshop. I received news that you have one of Agrippa's famed grimoires?" Called an accented Brit.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Aziraphale couldn't let it go. Crowley might just help him.


End file.
